


Yuletide? Gay

by Wonko



Category: Holby City
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Berena Secret Santa 2018, Christmas, Christmas Smut, Declarations Of Love, F/F, Feels, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-25 01:19:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17111738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonko/pseuds/Wonko
Summary: Bernie went to Kiev to try to fall out of love with her hopelessly straight best friend. It didn't work. Now she's been roped into helping Serena prepare a blowout Christmas party, because Ms Campbell has something very special to celebrate.





	1. Preparations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ktlsyrtis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktlsyrtis/gifts).



> Written for ktlsyrtis for Berena Secret Santa. Her prompt was 'cosy domesticity and hot sex.' We'll get to both of those.

Bernie was amazed, looking back on it, that she’d needed Cameron to point it out to her. The way she looked at Serena, like she’d hung the moon and the stars. The way her heart beat a little faster when she smiled. The way her skin tingled and her blood fizzed when they touched. It was obvious, and only a lifetime of heteronormative repression could explain how she’d remained blind to it for so long.

Serena. Her best friend, her most trusted colleague, the first person she’d call in an emergency. The woman she had fallen for hard and fast. Who was straight. A dyed in the wool heterosexual. A non-starter.

It was that, more than anything else, that made her flee to Kiev. She’d come close to ruining everything just a few weeks before the opportunity came up, sitting on the floor of the AAU operating theatre, tears in her eyes and her heart heavy as Serena tried to comfort her after Fletch’s stabbing. She remembered turning towards Serena, seeing all that care in affection in those shining brown eyes. An image had come to her, strong as anything, of herself surging forward for an illicit kiss, her hand tentatively resting on Serena’s neck. The fantasy was so strong she could almost taste Serena’s lips.

But she stopped herself just in time and simply rested her head on Serena’s shoulder, allowing her friend to give such comfort as she was able. When she got home she drank her weight in whisky and tried to begin the process of falling out of love.

Which was easier said than done.

She’d thought the secondment to Kiev might work. A few months of distance, sporadic contact at best. Throwing herself into work. For about five minutes after she got back onto AAU in late November, she thought she’d managed it.

Then Serena smiled at her and her heart reminded her that, in this, it was firmly in charge.

Serena had been so pleased to have her back. It had been hard without her, running the trauma unit on her own, dealing with hospital politics, fending off an attempt from Robbie to rekindle their relationship.

“I had a rather pathetic one night stand with him,” Serena had admitted one night in Albie’s over drinks. “He turned up on the ward the next day with a pair of my knickers, like falling back into bed with him wasn’t embarrassing enough.”

“What a twat,” Bernie replied instinctively, trying to disguise just how much the image of Serena and Robbie together bothered her.

“Anyway,” Serena went on. “What with that and Imelda Cousins and Jason’s new job, it’s all been a little fraught. I’m thinking a massive blowout party at mine this Christmas is just the ticket. What do you say?”

Bernie blinked stupidly. “Uhm...yes, if you like. I mean...you don’t have to ask me for permission.”

Serena grinned. “Excellent. That’s decided then. So you’ll help organise it.”

“Wait, what?”

“It’s the least you can do to make up for months of absence, Ms Wolfe,” Serena replied primly, then broke into a tinkling laugh. 

Which was how Bernie ended up on Serena’s doorstep at ten am on the day of the party, a duffle bag slung over her shoulder. Jason answered the door to her knocks. He was holding a clipboard in his hand and when he saw her he placed a tick next to an item that she strongly suspected read ‘Donkey arrives for donkey work.’

“Auntie Serena’s in the kitchen,” he said, then disappeared to get back to his duties, whatever they were.

Serena was baking. The house was full of the smell of cinnamon and nutmeg and the sound of Serena singing lazily along to Christmas carols on the radio. She was wearing jeans - the first time Bernie had ever seen her in denim - and a soft cashmere jumper the colour of Shiraz. There was a dusting of flour on her cheek and she looked so happy that it made Bernie’s heart ache with love.

“Hello you,” she said softly, then coughed to clear her suddenly dry throat. Serena looked up sharply, then grinned.

“You’re here,” she said, wiping her hands on a tea towel and coming over to press a quick kiss to Bernie’s suddenly flushing cheek. 

Bernie coughed again. “Major Wolfe, reporting for duty,” she murmured. “Ready for deployment.”

Serena nodded firmly. “Well, aren’t I the lucky one,” she said, her voice dripping from her lips like honey, making Bernie shiver. Then she smiled. “I need you to go and help Jason get the decorations down from the loft. Okay?”

Glad to escape, Bernie complied.

It turned out that Serena had boxes upon boxes of Christmas decorations. Every time Bernie thought there couldn’t possibly be more, Jason would pass down another box until at last the upstairs hallway was practically stuffed full. She thought of her flat with the tiny fibre optic tree she’d bought just to shut Cameron up. It seemed very sad and drab just at that moment.

“Ah, excellent!” Serena exclaimed as she trotted upstairs. “Come on then. Shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours if we all chip in.”

“A couple of  _ hours?”  _ Bernie exclaimed, appalled, but Serena just laughed.

“Three at the outside,” she said, and tipped Bernie a wink that made her heart forget to beat.

It turned out that Serena’s idea of chipping in mostly involved supervising. She was in and out of the kitchen keeping an eye on whatever delicious things she had in the oven. “Peppermint pinwheels,” she said on one occasion when Bernie asked, and, “poppyseed cookies,” on another. 

By the time all the fairy lights were strung and all the baubles were carefully placed and all the tinsel was skillfully draped, Bernie’s back was killing her. Serena, with her usual perceptiveness, spirited her away upstairs and into her bedroom.

“A massage and then a rest,” she said, her voice taking on a note of command when Bernie began to demur. “No arguments, Major. You’ve got the party to get through yet, and don’t forget you promised to stay over tonight and help me clean up in the morning.”

Bernie hadn’t forgotten. Her aching back made the decision for her in the end. With a grateful grunt, she collapsed forward onto Serena’s bed.

“Top off,” Serena instructed, bustling off into the en-suite before Bernie could splutter out a protest. The thought of lying topless in Serena’s bed was simultaneously thrilling and horrendous, but she knew better than to argue with Serena by now. Gingerly she pulled her t-shirt over her head, leaving her bra on to at least hint at modesty.

When Serena returned she let her hand trail absently over Bernie’s shoulders as she settled herself onto the bed. “Five minutes and then I’ll have to get back to the kitchen. Still got the gingerbread to make yet.”

Bernie grunted slightly. “You’ve got enough baked goods to sink a battleship,” she murmured into a pillow. “How many people are you expecting?”

Serena was breezy. “Oh,” she said. “I made it an open invitation on Facebook. I think practically everyone who’s ever worked at Holby is planning to stop by at some point.”

Bernie raised an eyebrow, unseen by her friend. “You don’t do things by halves, do you?”

Serena’s hands rubbed and stroked firmly over Bernie’s aching back. “Just felt particularly like celebrating this year,” she said softly. “Got a lot to celebrate.”

Bernie opened her mouth to ask what in particular she was talking about, but then Serena hit a particularly sensitive spot and she moaned instead, caught up in the sensation of being so thoroughly taken care of.

When Serena’s five minutes had elapsed, she let her hands drift to Bernie’s side. “Suppose I’d better head back to the kitchen,” she said, her voice sounding rather distant to Bernie’s ears.

“Mmm,” she murmured sleepily. “I can help…”

Serena shook her head. “You stay here and have a quick nap,” she said, letting her fingers trail briefly through Bernie’s hair, pushing a curl behind her ears. “Did you bring a Christmas jumper by the way?”

Bernie frowned. “A what?”

Serena smiled. “It’s the dress code for tonight, didn’t I say?” she asked, in a tone that made Bernie suspect she knew damn well she’d told her nothing of the kind. “Luckily I happen to have bought one I thought you’d like.”

She nodded towards her wardrobe door where Bernie, after blinking her eyes slowly open, saw a garishly coloured jumper on a hanger. It was rainbow striped and had the words ‘All Singing, All Dancing,” written on the front in shiny beads. It was so far from anything she’d normally wear it was almost comical. Just looking at it made her eyes hurt.

“You want me to wear that?” she asked dubiously.

“I want you to wear that,” Serena confirmed. Bernie twisted round to look at her, taking in her smiling lips and shining eyes. She sighed deeply.

“All right,” she grumbled, then let her head fall back to pillow. “Since it’s you.”

Serena let out a muffled squeal of delight and leaned down to kiss Bernie’s cheek. Bernie caught a waft of her perfume mixed with the Christmas smells of cinnamon and satsumas and pine needles. Her heart leapt in her chest, hammering against her ribs like a drum.

After a moment, she heard the door click shut as Serena left the room. With a sigh, she nestled down more deeply into the pillow.

“You’re whipped, Bernie Wolfe,” she muttered to herself. “And she’s not even your girlfriend.”

Her eyes slid slowly closed as her body gently tumbled towards sleep, Serena’s scent surrounding her, Serena’s sinfully soft goose down pillow beneath her cheek. A simple truth had to be faced. She really would do anything for Serena. She’d decorate her house, she’d wear a ridiculous outfit, she’d endure a long and noisy Christmas party that was probably going to be full of people she didn’t know. She’d even keep control of her foolish, traitorous heart.

Somehow.


	2. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party gets underway, with faces old and new making an appearance. It's Bernie's idea of hell, but Serena is there, so there are compensations. The evening ends somewhat unexpectedly. There's going to be a long night ahead.

The party was in full swing by eight o’clock and it was everything Bernie had feared: loud, crowded, hot, full of people she either didn’t know or barely knew. Ordinarily it would be her idea of hell, but Serena was there, sparkling everywhere she looked, and that was enough to push most of the other stuff into the background.

Serena had handed her a tray of drinks and ordered her to mingle soon after the first guests had arrived, and Bernie had taken it upon herself since then to ensure that the mulled wine and punch were flowing freely to all the adults, and that the children were kept topped up with coke and lemonade. More than one amused guest commented that she was a perfect hostess, and Bernie found herself entertaining the fantasy that this was her house, that this really was her and Serena’s party. The thought was more warming than the alcohol she’d been steadily sipping since about seven thirty.

“All right boss,” Fletch commented as she topped up his glass. “Love the jumper. Not being subtle these days then?”

Bernie flushed, though hopefully the room was dim enough to disguise it. “Serena,” she mumbled. “I think she wants me loud and proud for some reason.”

Fletch cast a seasoned eye over the mingling party guests. “Maybe she’s got matchmaking in mind,” he suggested, nodding towards a petite brunette who was regarding Bernie with no small amount of interest. “That one looks like she could swallow you whole, for all she’s pint sized.”

Mild panic gripped Bernie’s chest. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “I’m not...I mean I’m really not looking for…”

But she trailed off when the woman in question pushed herself off the wall on which she’d been leaning and sidled over to them, her hips swaying just so. “Well, hello,” she purred when she arrived. “I didn’t realise Serena was providing gifts at this party.” She walked two fingers up Bernie’s rainbow-clad forearm, a smirk twitching her lips upwards. “Fleur Fanshawe,” she introduced herself. “Are you for me?”

The look of astonished horror on Bernie’s face was so comical it made Fleur throw back her head and laugh. It was a good laugh, a bit dirty, a bit sexy. Bernie thought she might have found it rather attractive but for the fact that she was already head over heels for someone else.

“I, uh…” she stammered. “Uhm, I think maybe you’re mistaking me for someone else?”

Fleur shook her head. “Pretty sure my gaydar’s functioning well enough.”

Bernie cast about for another excuse, but before she could decide on one Serena appeared behind her, wrapping an arm round her waist and pulling their sides flush together. “Are you terrifying my co-lead?” she asked Fleur with a distinct twinkle in her eye. “She looks like a startled gazelle.”

Bernie couldn’t let that stand. “I resent that remark, Serena Campbell,” she insisted, twisting her body slightly so she could look down into Serena’s shining face. Amusement and affection danced in the other woman’s eyes and immediately Bernie realised her mistake. It would be so easy to lean down and kiss her. For a few hot, endless seconds, that was all she could think about.

“Oh fine,” Serena said, amused indulgence turning her voice warm. “A scandalised labrador then.”

Fleur looked from Bernie’s face to Serena’s, comprehension dawning in her sharp eyes. “Oh, I see,” she said, then grinned when Bernie turned to her with an expression very like panic. “I can see I’m going to get nowhere fast with you.” She nodded her head to the other corner of the room, where a rather pretty young woman Bernie didn’t recognise was chatting to Dom and Zosia. “Will I have any more luck with her, d’you think?”

Serena glanced over, then inclined her head in a gesture that indicated definite possibilities. “That’s Donna Jackson,” she said. “Nurse. Worked at Holby a few years ago. Had a bit of a party girl reputation. Heard a rumour she’s bi, or at least open to the idea. Go and try your luck.”

Fleur clapped her hands together. “Extremely attractive bisexual nurse at least ten years too young for me?” she exclaimed. “Serena, how  _ did _ you know my type?”

Serena laughed as she walked away, then turned to Bernie and squeezed her a little tighter. “Bless her, she never changes,” she muttered. “Come on. I want you to meet my friend Sian.”

Sian Kors turned out to be a woman of about their age - or at least parts of her were. Other parts were significantly less venerable. Bernie’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head when Sian immediately draped her arms over her shoulders and pressed up against her. Suddenly Bernie’s eyeline was full of collagen filled lips, a botoxed brow and a pair of silicone enhanced assets that were definitely out of a Harley Street doctor’s catalogue. Sian hadn’t followed the Christmas jumper dress code and was instead wearing a low cut dress in leopard print that may as well have been sprayed on.

“So you’re the magnificent Bernie Wolfe,” she slurred. Clearly the empty bottle of champagne on the table behind her had not been widely shared with others. “Serena’s told me so much about you.

Serena slapped her on the arm. “Behave!” she muttered sternly, then glanced at Bernie. “I’ll just be a moment.”

Bernie stared after her, aghast, hardly able to believe Serena was abandoning her. Sian hiccupped and giggled slightly, before trailing her hand down Bernie’s arm and grabbing her hand. “Come and dance with me, soldier,” she said, dragging her towards a patch of free space next to a few other swaying couples - including, Bernie was amused to note, Fleur and Donna. It seemed Fleur Fanshawe was a damn fast mover.

Chris Rae was bleating on the stereo about driving home for Christmas. Sian pressed her hips tight against Bernie’s and ground against her, heedless of the stiffness of Bernie’s limbs or the blank horror on her face. “The famous Bernie Wolfe,” she murmured somewhere near her ear. “The big bad Wolfe.” She giggled helplessly. “I expected you to be more butch.”

Bernie struggled to decide where to put her hands, eventually deciding to rest them gingerly on Sian’s waist. “Sorry to disappoint,” she offered, though she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about the assumption - though it certainly wasn’t the first time she’d heard it since she came out. People had very fixed ideas of what a lesbian army veteran would look like, it seemed.

“Oh, I’m not disappointed,” Sian slurred, giggling again. “I think you’re absolutely perfect.”

Bernie grimaced, wondering how on Earth she let Serena get her into these situations.

Sian moved her lips close to Bernie’s ear, dropping her voice to a stage whisper. “I want you to take good care of my friend now, you hear? Or you’ll have me to answer to.”

Bernie frowned, but before she could ask what Sian meant she felt a tap on her shoulder. “Can I cut in?” Serena’s smooth voice asked.

Bernie nodded, expecting Serena to take Sian off her hands. Instead, she pulled her friend towards Ric who was standing awkwardly to one side, obviously having been summoned for just this purpose. 

“Ric!” Sian exclaimed, stumbling over to him. “How are you? Still on the lookout for wife number six? Or are you up to seven by now?”

They wandered off together, leaving Bernie and Serena standing alone together in the little patch of space Sian had carved out for dancing. Bernie expected Serena to smile and head back out to mingle, but to her surprise she stepped forward and slid her arms round Bernie’s waist. “Can you dance, Major?” she asked, just loud enough for Bernie to hear.

Bernie shrugged, letting her hands come up and curl round Serena’s shoulders. “Sort of,” she replied. “I can usually manage not to fall over.”

A smile tugged Serena’s lips upwards, almost shyly. “That’ll do,” she said and pulled Bernie a little closer.

They swayed together for a few silent moments before Bernie noticed that Serena was humming along to the new song that had come onto the stereo. She kept tune well, and the low rumble from her throat made shivers of pleasure run down Bernie’s spine.

“You know this one, right?” Serena asked softly. “Everyone does.”

Bernie nodded.  _ “Have yourself a merry little Christmas,”  _ she warbled, mostly tunefully.  _ “Let your heart be light. From now on our troubles will be out of sight.” _

Serena smiled, a beautiful, surprised smile. She hummed the next verse, then joined in herself.  _ “Here we are as in olden days, happy golden days of yore. Faithful friends who are dear to us, gather near to us once more…” _

She sighed and rested her head gently on Bernie’s shoulder as they slowly swayed together. “I missed you when you were away,” she whispered, just loud enough for Bernie to hear over the pounding of her heart. 

Bernie swallowed hard. “I missed you too,” she said. She’d never understated anything so much in her entire life.

“You’re not going to leave again, are you?” Serena asked. The question was posed casually, but Bernie could feel the tension in the body beneath her hands.

“No,” Bernie said, hoping her voice wasn’t cracking. “I’m staying right here for as long as you want me.”

Serena’s body relaxed slowly. Bernie felt it happen in stages as she gradually let go of the tension she’d been holding and let herself lean more firmly into Bernie.

“That’s good,” she whispered, almost to herself, and stayed by Bernie’s side for the rest of the night.

***

It was just after two in the morning and the last of the guests had just bid their fond farewells. Bernie’s feet were killing her and she was sure she was going to sleep for a year. Serena’s house looked like a bomb had hit it and the thought of clearing it all up the next day made her want to hide under a duvet and never come out.

Serena came in from the hall where she’d just finished locking up behind Raf and Fletch, who’d been the last to leave. “Oh God, shall we just put the house on the market and start again?”

From somewhere in the depths of her weary soul, Bernie dredged up a laugh. “Think the estate agents would want it cleaned up for the photos,” she offered.

Serena nodded seriously. “So you’re saying an insurance fire is our best bet.”

They lapsed into silence for a moment, the first time in hours that they’d had such a luxury. Bernie’s ears were practically ringing with it. Jason had gone to bed at ten, claiming his noise cancelling headphones and a Harry Potter audiobook would be quite sufficient to block out the sounds of the party. Bernie remembered being quite jealous.

“We’d better turn in,” Serena offered at last, breaking Bernie out of her reverie. “I’ve made up Elinor’s room for you. First on the right at the top of the stairs.”

Bernie nodded dumbly but didn’t move. Her legs seemed to have forgotten how to work. With a smile, Serena gave her a little push. “Go on,” she said. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Blinking hard against sandy eyes, Bernie began to trudge towards the stairs. It seemed to take an inordinately long time to climb them, but when she finally got to the bathroom she splashed some cold water on her face and brushed her teeth slowly. Both actions made her feel a little more human, though her reflection in the mirror looked absolutely shattered.

She expected to be slipping straight into bed when she emerged from the bathroom, so was surprised to find Serena waiting on the landing, her mobile in hand, looking anxious. “What’s wrong?” Bernie asked, frowning.

Serena shook her head. “Nothing much,” she said. “Ellie’s just rung. She’s lost her purse with her travel card in it in one of the clubs. She was meant to be staying with Edward and his foetus this evening, but apparently I’m the one she thinks to call when drunk and stranded. I’m almost flattered.” She flashed Bernie a tight smile. “I’ve ordered her an Uber to bring her here.”

Bernie felt comprehension dawn. “Ah. And she’ll be wanting her room. No problem - I can get a cab back to mine.”

Serena stopped that train of thought with a hand on her arm. “No way - I need you in the morning for cleanup. You can share with me.”

For a moment, Bernie’s brain short circuited and went blank like a computer flashing the blue screen of death. “Share...with you…” she repeated slowly, stupidly. Her mind filled up with images and imagined sensations - Serena gazing at her sleepily from the other pillow, them gravitating towards each other in the night, slipping her arms round Serena and pulling her close, sighing her name into the delicious dark…

“Not a problem, is it?” Serena asked, snapping Bernie back to reality.

_ Yes,  _ Bernie’s mind screamed.  _ Because I am so in love with you and lying beside you without touching you sounds like torture. _

“No,” she heard her mouth reply instead. “That’s...that’s fine.”

Serena beamed. “Great,” she said. “You go on ahead. I’ll just wait downstairs for Ellie and get her settled. I won’t be long.”

Bernie managed a small smile before slipping into the bedroom. There, with the door safely closed behind her, she opened her mouth in a silent scream and - very gently - silently began to bang her head against the nearest wall.

“What is  _ wrong  _ with you?” she hissed urgently to herself, glancing over at Serena’s big, luxurious, sinfully soft bed. 

It was going to be a long,  _ long  _ night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: there was only. One. Bed. _Gasp!_


	3. Make the Yuletide Gay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party's over, and Bernie and Serena are sharing a bed for the night. Whatever could happen next?

Serena’s bedroom was a little cooler than the rest of the house, Serena having had the forethought to open a window before the party started. It was the perfect temperature for sleeping, not that Bernie anticipated doing much of that. She rather thought that lying rigidly awake barely able to breathe was more likely to be the order of the day. Or night, as it happened.

She took the opportunity of Serena’s absence to get changed into the pair of old scrub bottoms and RAMC t-shirt she’d brought with her. It crossed her mind that she might have brought something nicer had she known she’d be literally spending the night with Serena - something more like normal pyjamas that a real adult might wear, perhaps. She eyed herself critically in the full length mirror, fussing with the drawstring of the scrub bottoms and the hem of the t-shirt before finally giving it up as a bad job.

She deduced from the tube of moisturiser and the novel on one of the bedside tables that Serena slept on the left side of the bed, so she slipped into the right side just as she heard the front door open and Elinor stumble inside. Mother and daughter’s voices were largely hushed as they headed up the stairs, more likely in deference to Jason than her, Bernie thought. 

Her heart began to hammer out a faster rhythm as the minutes passed. Bernie imagined Serena helping Elinor into her pyjamas, wiping makeup off her face for her, tucking her in, making sure she had a basin by the bed in case she was sick. How long had it been since Elinor had arrived? Ten minutes?

Even though she’d been listening out for footsteps, Bernie still jerked a little in surprise when the bedroom door opened. She twisted round to meet Serena’s tired smile and answered it with a small one of her own. “Is Ellie okay?” she asked quietly.

“Fine,” Serena answered. “A bit worse for wear, but nothing too serious.”

She bustled about on her side of the bed for a few minutes, taking out her earrings, collecting together a few things to take into the en suite with her. Before she made her way in, she clicked off the main light and then fumbled with a little switch on her bedside table. On the wall above the bed, a string of fairy lights Bernie hadn’t noticed before lit up, glowing with a warm white light.

“Oh, how pretty,” Bernie couldn’t help but exclaim. “Do you have these all the time, or…?”

Serena shook her head. “Just for December,” she said. “I’m a Christmas nut, not a hipster.”

Bernie’s laughter followed her into the bathroom where she quickly and efficiently stripped off her makeup and changed into a pair of soft flannel pyjamas. They were a dark red tartan, and Bernie swallowed hard when she saw Serena saunter back into the bedroom wearing them. She had always thought Serena looked absolutely beautiful in red.

Serena left the fairy lights on as she slipped into bed, turning onto her right hand side so she could look at Bernie in the dim light. “Did you have a nice time tonight?” she asked softly.

Bernie blinked slowly. The house was quiet, and the atmosphere in the semi-darkened room was warm and comfortable. She could feel Serena shifting slightly next to her, wriggling a little to get into a comfortable position.

“I did,” she said at last, truthfully, surprising herself. If anyone had asked her at any time in her life if she’d enjoy a night like the one she’d just had, she’d have laughed. Love was a truly powerful force indeed.

“I’m glad.” Serena smiled, her eyes shining with warmth and affection. “I meant what I said before, you know. I’m so happy you’re here.”

Serena’s hand was lying on the pillow between them. With only a slight hesitation, Bernie reached out and covered it with her own. Serena took the opportunity to turn her hand so they were palm to palm, lacing their fingers together and squeezing gently. 

Bernie swallowed hard. “Not going anywhere,” she murmured huskily, then coughed to clear her throat. She hoped she wouldn’t cry but it had been a long night and she was exhausted and in love. She thought it might be a close run thing.

A slight hesitation made Serena pause, but then she pressed on. “Not even for a more interesting job?” she asked, her voice so casual that Bernie knew immediately that she was feigning her lack of concern. “Some hot shot trauma centre somewhere exotic might catch your eye.”

Bernie took a breath, then sighed. Oh, she had messed this up, even by her standards. Had she made Serena feel like their work on AAU and in the trauma bay wasn’t enough for her? Well, of course she had - what else was she meant to think?

“I’m happy on AAU, with you...and everyone,” she managed to force out. “I don’t need anything exotic. I’ve sort of been there and done that.”

“Then why-” Serena began, before cutting herself off, shaking her head. “Never mind…”

She looked away, pulling her hand from Bernie’s. Bernie felt suddenly bereft, her heart swelling with love and regret. She had to make this right somehow. And perhaps she owed Serena the truth. It might be a little awkward for a while, but they’d get past it she was sure. And maybe she’d get over things quicker if it was out in the open.

“Do you remember the day Fletch got stabbed?” she began, her voice quiet and thin.

Serena turned back to face her again, frowning a little at the apparent non-sequitur. “Of course,” she said. “I doubt I’ll ever forget it. I was terrified.”

“I don’t think we were ever in danger of not saving him,” Bernie began, but Serena silenced her with a shake of her head.

“Not then,” she said. “I was calm in surgery, just doing what we needed to do. Before that, when that...that man was on the ward. The way he was obsessed by you, the way his eyes followed you everywhere.” She shuddered. “Gave me the creeps.”

Bernie blinked, surprised. “You never said.”

Serena shrugged. “You were so insistent that we not label him. And at the time I wasn’t sure how to say  _ Can we actually just section this chap; I don’t like the way he looks at you.  _ Thought it might sound a bit irrational.”

Bernie shook her head, smiling slightly. “Maybe a bit,” she said. “We didn’t have the benefit of hindsight yet.”

Serena hummed in agreement, then her eyes flicked away. She raised her hand to the pendant at her throat, twirling it between her fingers as she wetted her lips with a flick of her tongue. “Still,” she murmured, a little shakily. “I think a bit of irrationality is to be expected when you’re falling in love.”

Time seemed to stop as Bernie’s brain seized up like an engine with a broken alternator. For a long moment she almost forgot to breathe.

“When you’re...when you’re falling in…” she managed to gasp out after what felt like a very, very long time.

Anxiety was rolling off Serena in waves. “Oh God,” she moaned. “Have I just made a fool of myself?” Her muscles tensed, like she was preparing to throw off the covers and get out of bed. Before she could move, Bernie reached out blindly and grabbed onto her wrist.

“No,” she babbled. “No, you haven’t. I, uhm...I mean, me too.” She cursed her inability to be articulate, her heart tripping over itself and her tongue tying itself in knots. Taking a deep breath, she tried again. “What I mean is...I love you, Serena. I love you so,  _ so  _ much.”

Serena’s voice was very small. “You do?”

Bernie nodded urgently, and then decided that actions would speak louder than words. With a gentle tug she pulled Serena into her arms, sliding her fingers into her hair as she leaned forward. Their first kiss was gentle, a little hesitant, a little tentative. Then Serena’s lips parted in a sigh and a rush of delirious love made Bernie whimper. Suddenly they were pressed together from breast to hip, their lips sliding and pressing and tangling together before parting briefly for air, then diving back in to begin the dance over again. Bernie had no idea how long they kissed, hands trailing through hair or over shoulders or once - thrillingly - down a trembling flank to rest in the curve of Serena’s waist. She found herself talking as they kissed, words forcing themselves out with gasps of air. “I thought about doing this...that day...when Fletch…”

Serena moaned into her mouth, her fingers tangling in soft gold silk. “I bloody wish you had,” she murmured back, wrenching her lips away from Bernie’s so she could detour to the line of her jaw, kissing and nibbling along the corded muscle straining in her throat. “Would have clarified a few things earlier.”

Bernie tried to process that thought for a long moment but eventually gave up on the concept of thinking as a bad job. Who could think with Serena Campbell’s mouth on their skin and her body pressing insistently against theirs and, oh god, her fingers…

“You feel so good,” Serena moaned against Bernie’s throat. “I’ve thought about nothing but having you in this bed the whole time you were gone.”

Bernie’s head slammed back against the pillow, her heart hammering against her ribcage like it wanted out. She had a dim thought that she ought to be taking the lead - wasn’t she meant to be the experienced one? - but then every single lucid thought departed her brain when Serena slid her leg over her hips and straddled her, rearing up above her like some kind of goddess come to earth. The dim glow of the fairy lights made her skin shine golden, and the force of the love and desire in her soft dark eyes made Bernie’s breath abandon her in a rush.

“You’re so beautiful,” Serena whispered, her fingers trailing gently over the hollow of Bernie’s throat.

Bernie reached up to the buttons of her pyjama top with trembling hands. “Can I?” she asked reverently, fumbling with the buttons as Serena nodded. Slowly the soft flannel fell open, revealing an expanse of creamy skin and the voluptuous curves of Serena’s breasts, her dusky pink nipples already hard and straining. Bernie gazed up at her, her hands splaying over her stomach, trying to commit every second of this to memory. Years later, when she thought of this night, this was the image that would return to her - Serena straddling her thighs, her tartan pyjamas hanging open, her breath coming in short gasps and her eyes so full of fierce love that Bernie wondered how she’d never seen it before.

“Take this off,” she insisted, tugging at Bernie’s t-shirt. Bernie rose up slightly to comply, then helped Serena shrug out of her own top. Both garments landed on the floor to be forgotten until morning, and Serena leaned down to kiss Bernie again. They both whimpered at the first press of naked skin to naked skin. It was shockingly intimate: warm and soft and delicious in a way neither had expected. For Serena, this was her first experience with a body that was like her own, with curves that matched and merged with hers. For Bernie, this was the first time that sex with a woman was happening in a bed, or even lying down. All she and Alex had ever managed were quick fumbles up against walls or the backs of doors, encounters that were as explosive as they were brief and that left Bernie sick with guilt and shame afterwards.

There was no shame in this with Serena, nothing to taint the joy and pleasure of holding the woman she loved and who loved her back, as impossible and unreal as that had seemed to her just ten short minutes ago. Serena loving her was a miracle, a gift she made a vow then and there that she would never squander.

Bernie’s scrub bottoms, Serena’s pyjamas and their underwear quickly followed the rest of their clothes to the floor. With Serena naked in her arms, Bernie suddenly grew hesitant. There was so much she wanted to do, so many places she wanted to kiss and caress and stroke. She hardly knew where to begin.

“I can hear you overthinking things from here,” Serena murmured, pressing a series of kisses to the scar bisecting Bernie’s sternum. “How about you let me take the lead, hmm?”

A rush of heat flooded through Bernie and she whimpered aloud. Serena raised her head and her eyebrow. “Oh, you like that idea do you?” she teased. “Me being in charge?” She grinned wickedly before pressing lightly on Bernie’s shoulders, pushing her onto her back. “I’m noting that for future reference.”

Once again Bernie found herself being straddled, but this time there was nothing to come between her skin and Serena’s. She felt her lover settle against her thigh, soft and impossibly warm and then suddenly wet. Bernie moaned as she realised what that meant and tensed the muscles of her thigh, pressing back up against Serena who was gently grinding against her.

“Shall I tell you one of the things I thought about while you were gone?” Serena began, her voice almost conversational, but given away by the shallowness of her breathing. “It was this...me on top of you...you spread out underneath me like a feast. Incidentally, I do plan on devouring you later.”

Bernie whimpered again, her pulse jumping in her throat. Serena smiled as she trailed her fingers along her neck and down to stroke her breasts. Bernie’s whimper turned into a full throated groan when the gentle strokes turned to little pinches. She arched her back, thrusting her chest upwards, trying to express without words just how much she appreciated the way Serena was playing her body like a violin.

“You’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” Serena murmured. “Do you know what I most wanted to do, all that time you were away?”

She leaned down and took a nipple into her mouth, sucking gently and stroking the stiff peak with her tongue. When she had Bernie a panting, sobbing mess, she paid a little attention to the other nipple before kissing her way up Bernie’s chest and finding her ear. “What I most wanted, all that time you were gone,” she began, nipping at Bernie’s earlobe as she spoke, “was to have my fingers inside you.”

A rush of sudden pleasure made Bernie’s whole body jerk. Serena paused for a deep breath as the motion made the thigh between her legs tense and thrust upwards.

“Serena,” Bernie moaned, too far gone to care that she wasn’t being quiet, that they weren’t alone in the house. “Please…”

Serena seemed in no mood to wait. With one final kiss to the spot where Bernie’s jaw met her neck, she reared up above her and slid two fingers into the wetness between her thighs. Bernie jerked again, whimpering and groaning as Serena fumbled slightly. “It’s like touching myself, but not,” she murmured wondrously. “Oh god, you feel so good darling. I love you so much.”

Bernie’s hips were rolling beneath Serena, trying desperately to get some pressure or some friction or anything at all to relieve the maddening ache between her thighs. “I love you too,” she managed to whimper back, and then Serena slid those two exploring fingers inside her and she forgot to breathe. Her eyes met Serena’s and for a long moment they stared at each other, wonder and love in equal measure pooling between them as Serena gently stroked and moved inside her.

And then Serena found her rhythm and Bernie threw her head back against the pillow. Serena was grinding herself ever more insistently against her thigh, her breath coming more and more erratically as their bodies learned how to move together. Bernie rested her hands on Serena’s hips and then on her backside, helping her along, pulling with her hands and pushing with her thigh until Serena was gasping and babbling words that neither would ever be able to remember.

“Can we...together?” Bernie murmured, her whole body as taut as a stretched rubber band. Serena nodded desperately and she fell forwards, her mouth searching desperately for Bernie’s as her hips thrust and her hand stroked and her thumb came up to rub slow circles just there, just right-

“Serena!” Bernie moaned, tearing her lips away as her body trembled and pulsed beneath her lover’s hand. She dug her fingers into Serena’s thighs, so hard they’d find bruises in the morning, though Serena barely felt it. All she was aware of was the rhythmic fluttering of Bernie against her fingers and the exquisite tension of Bernie’s thigh between her legs and the beautiful, wondrous sound of her lover’s pleasure gasped into the dim light of the room where she’d fantasised about and dreamed of and longed for this moment. All of that combined was more than enough to have her crying Bernie’s name too, carried away in exquisite pleasure and bliss.

They lay together for long moments afterwards, Serena collapsed in Bernie’s arms, her breath slowly returning to something approaching normal. “Oh, I love you,” she breathed, pressing soft kisses onto whatever patch of skin she could reach.

Bernie reached up and stroked Serena’s hair back from her temples, noting dimly that the short strands were slightly damp with exertion and sweat. “I love you too,” she murmured back.

“Happy Christmas to me,” Serena whispered, nestling into Bernie’s arms more solidly, stretching her legs out so they were pressed together from their shoulders to their feet.

Bernie laughed softly. “To us, darling,” she said, and dropped a reverent kiss onto the top of her lover’s head.

Serena wriggled against her happily, then yawned. “I know I was planning to devour you,” she murmured. “But I’m suddenly feeling very worn out somehow…”

Bernie nodded, grinning. “I’ll let you take a rain check,” she said, and then was overtaken by a yawn herself.

It had been a very long day, after all.

“Goodnight darling,” Serena whispered sleepily, her eyes already drifting helplessly closed.

“Goodnight,” Bernie replied, sighing happily as she felt her own eyes slide shut. After a few very short moments and for the first time - though by no means the last - they fell gently asleep in each other’s arms.

***

Elinor and Jason were already up and eating breakfast in the kitchen the next morning when the two women shifted themselves out of bed. Bernie smiled nervously at Serena’s daughter when they arrived downstairs. She’d met Ellie before briefly but wasn’t quite sure what to make of her yet. She was very like Serena in some ways, but seemed to be more self involved than her mother - though of course, a lot of people were a bit like that when they were young, weren’t they? Still, she felt herself get a little nervous as she sat down at the table and poured a cup of coffee from the still warm pot, flashing Jason and Ellie a small smile as she did so.

Serena brought her over a bowl of muesli and slid into the chair beside her. Their thighs pressed gently together beneath the table. “Sleep okay, darling?” she asked, glancing at her daughter.

Elinor rolled her eyes. “I might have slept slightly better if you two hadn’t been making the Yuletide gay for half the night.”

Serena had been taking a sip of coffee as Elinor spoke, which now found itself sprayed unceremoniously over the kitchen table. Jason rose instantly to fetch a cloth, while Bernie patted a spluttering Serena on the back. Elinor grinned, clearly amused by the reaction she’d provoked.

“It’s all right mum, don’t worry,” she said. “I’m not going to be weird about it. Honestly, I assumed this was going to happen eventually. You’ve been mooning over her for months.”

“I have not,” Serena protested weakly, but Elinor just rolled her eyes.

“Whatever you say mum,” she said, shaking her head. “At least you both sounded like you were having a good time, which is more than I can say for the times I’ve had to listen to dad and Liberty at it in the next room.”

Serena flushed crimson. “I’m not having this conversation.”

Jason looked from his cousin to his aunt, his brow furrowed. “Wait just a moment,” he said, then left the room for a minute. The three women could hear him fumbling about in the cupboard under the stairs, and then he returned bearing a wrapped gift. “I know it’s early, but I think you’re going to need these right away,” he said, passing the present to Elinor.

Bemused but smiling, she tore the paper off the box. When she saw what it was, she laughed. “Perfect, Jason,” she said. “I think I’ll be getting a lot of use out of these.” She placed her new noise cancelling headphones on the table, then returned to her cereal.

Slightly nonplussed by the turn the morning had taken, Bernie glanced to Serena for guidance. To her surprise, the other woman was smiling gently, her eyes dancing with amusement and affection. When she spotted Bernie looking at her, she held out her hand on top of the table. Without hesitation, Bernie covered it with her own and laced their fingers together.

“Eat up, darling,” Serena said after a few warm, quiet seconds. “We’ve got a lot of cleaning up to do today.”

Bernie squeezed her hand tightly, her heart so full and happy she thought she might burst. “Can’t wait,” she said, and smiled.


End file.
